by Jules Court
She stood. “Gentlemen, thank you for your time. Unless you’re going to arrest my client, I think we’re done here.”
Danny exchanged a look with Brian. They had enough evidence to cuff the little snot right now, but best to play it safe and wait for all the forensics to come back before they took the shot. Brian nodded, not needing to say anything. They were in sync on this one.
“Thanks for coming in,” Brian said. “And Mr. Whitford, this isn’t a good time to be taking any trips.”
Erin gave them a professional nod and ushered her client forward.
But just before they left the room, Danny touched her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “You might want to start talking to the DA’s office about deals.”
She gave him a long, searching look with those big blue eyes. “Thank you, Detective.”
Once Erin and her client were out of earshot, Brian whirled on him. “What the hell, dude.”
“She knows we’re going to arrest him as soon as we get all the evidence back from the lab,” he said defensively. “The sooner they make a deal, the sooner we close this case.”
“You need to figure out what you want ASAP.”
“Do I have to remind you of how you almost blew a big case for us because you were hot for Priya?”
“The difference is: I knew what I was doing. I didn’t pretend I didn’t want her. And I acted on it. I didn’t sit around feeling sorry for myself because I fell for the wrong person. So I’m telling you now what you told me then—get your shit together or get off the case.” Brian negated the harshness of his words by dropping a sympathetic hand on Danny’s shoulders.
It was the sympathy that really stung. Because the truth was he was a complete train wreck of a man. He’d fooled himself that he was holding it all together, but that was before Erin slapped him back to reality.
The reality where he was too afraid to take a chance on something true. She was volatile and defensive, but also tender and warm, and able to pierce every chink in his armor with one unguarded smile. And he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her.
He was fucked.
* * *
Erin closed her office door behind her, shutting out Smarmy Scotty, who for some inexplicable reason had been waiting to pounce when she returned from the police station. He was a little too interested in her case. It wasn’t like there was anything particularly noteworthy about it except for the last name of her client. And the detective working the case.
But Scotty wouldn’t know she was—what? Involved with him? Two make-out sessions and a night of mutual orgasms via nonpenetrative sex didn’t constitute a relationship. Something she had no time or emotional energy for anyway. And it wasn’t like he wanted to be with her. She’d propositioned him and then made him get her off. No wonder he wasn’t blowing her phone up.
A rap sounded on her door. “I told you I’m busy, Scott,” she called out. And wasn’t he a grand reminder of why you shouldn’t get involved with anyone you had to see again? Even if, in Scotty’s case, it had only been a couple of dates. He’d tried to get in her pants, but it hadn’t gone so well. When he’d grabbed her hand and shoved it onto his dick, she’d been outta there. She’d cursed herself the entire T ride home for being stupid enough to wind up in the situation in the first place.
So why hadn’t she learned? Men were nothing but trouble.
But when the door opened, it wasn’t Scott on the other side. Olivia Larsen, Mr. Wyatt’s paralegal, poked her head in. “May I come in?”
“Of course, of course,” she said, waving her forward.
Olivia was probably in her midthirties. An unruffled, efficient woman whose one touch of individuality was the rotation of sparkly brooches she wore pinned to her blazer lapel. Today’s was a grinning cat. Olivia was just one of the army of overlooked, hard working paralegals—mostly women—who made up the backbone of the firm. Ones who never got any credit because J.D. wasn’t tacked to the end of their names.
But maybe they didn’t need the head pats? Cruz was right. She needed validation desperately. Validation that the boys network was never going to give her. And even if they did, would it be enough?
Pull yourself together. “What can I do for you?” she asked Olivia in her best “I’m not in the midst of a complete breakdown” voice.
“Mr. Wyatt wanted an update on your meeting.”
“No arrest yet, but it’s coming. I’m going to reach out to the prosecutor’s office to see who’s assigned and start talking deals.”
“No deals,” Olivia said. “Mr. Wyatt said to make sure you’re ready to go to trial on this one.”
“Is this Mr. Wyatt’s case?” Was he going to argue it for her too?
“They all are,” Olivia said with a wry smile.
She placed her hands flat on her desk to stop herself from clenching them in frustration. “Why did I even get assigned?”
Olivia looked away.
“Please,” Erin said quietly.
She gave a little sigh. “I don’t know exactly, but there was a rumor going around that you might have an in with the police. Something about a detective...like I said, I don’t know. I have to get back to work now.”
Erin wasn’t just being paranoid. “Thanks.”
Once the door shut, she let her head drop into her hands. It was never going to be on her merits, was it?
She rubbed her temples. She had two choices now. Either ask to be taken off the case or make it abundantly clear she had no connection to one Detective Daniel Cruz. Which shouldn’t be difficult, because it was the truth. They’d agreed to one night only. It was only her stupid hormones that wanted more. He was like the cigarettes they’d shared—one taste was enough to start the cravings. And she was going cold turkey on both.
Maybe after she saw him one last time. Just to make sure he was clear that there was nothing between them.
* * *
Danny must have picked up his phone and put it down a million times. Now he sat on his sofa just staring at it, a strange, shiny object in his hand. It had somehow transformed into the unknown the longer he contemplated using it to call Erin. He definitely wasn’t going to do as Brian jokingly—he hoped—suggested and text her a picture of his junk. Although, she might like that. She was kind of twisted. Good thing because he was too.
The sound of the door buzzer caused him to drop his phone. When he went to the intercom, he expected to hear Brian on the other end. Right now he’d welcome a new case, anything to knock him out of this cycle of indecision. It wasn’t like him to be such a coward. But it wasn’t Brian on the other end.
“Can I come up?” Erin asked, her voice sounding tinny through the intercom speaker.
He pushed the button to unlock the door in response.
When she stepped inside his apartment, the first thing out of her mouth was, “This was probably a mistake.”
It wasn’t something he wanted to hear, but she’d come to him. That was the important thing. He silenced her with a kiss. Her lips bore the chill of outside, but they warmed up quickly under his.
She pulled back and shed her coat. She must have come directly from work because she was still all buttoned up in a suit.
He pulled the elastic from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.
“So this can’t—”
He shut her up with another kiss. She returned it eagerly, her tongue slipping into his mouth. He unbuttoned her suit jacket and she shrugged out of it.
They undid each other’s buttons frantically on their respective dress shirts. She shimmied out of her skirt and put her hands on his belt.
“Bedroom?” he asked, but it came out as more of a growl.
“Bedroom,” she agreed.
He grabbed her hand and they rushed together into his room. But once inside,
she halted. “Can we do something different this time?”
He pushed a lock of hair off her neck and nuzzled the sensitive skin. “Anything,” he breathed into her skin.
“Can I be on top?”
“You can be wherever you want.” As long as it was here with him. At least for now. They could catalogue all the reasons it would never work in the morning.
She pulled back. “Then drop your pants and go lie down.” She immediately attacked his belt and had his pants and underwear off faster than he could have done it himself.
“Condom?” she asked. He went to move, but she stopped him. “I’ll get it.”
“Medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”
“Lie down. I’ll be right back.” She gave him a sultry teasing smile and his already hard cock got even harder. He didn’t think it was possible.
Chapter Thirteen
Erin leaned against the bathroom door for a moment to gather herself. Her heart was racing in her chest. The bathroom mirror had shown a swollen-lipped woman with pink cheeks and wide, glassy eyes. Someone who was in control. She knew what she was doing playing with fire like this. Her pussy clenched in anticipation.
Clutching the wrapped condom, she reentered the bedroom. Danny lay stretched out on his back, arms behind his head. She let herself just look for a minute to store up the image of his lean, male beauty.
“Don’t move,” she said. She slipped off her panties and unhooked her bra, dropping it on the floor.
His eyes greedily roamed over her naked body, setting off sparks in her belly and lower. She’d never felt so beautiful and unafraid as she did right now. She crossed to the bed. “Ready?”
He gave a pointed look at his cock thrusting straight up in the air. “You have to ask?”
She straddled his thighs as he reached for her. She lightly smacked his hand. “Arms down. I’m in control here.”
His smile clearly said, “only because I’m letting you” but he brought his arms down to rest at his sides. But that was why she felt so safe. Because he would control himself, which gave her the freedom to lose her control for once. With him, she was safe.
She unwrapped the condom and rolled it over his cock. Only then did she line herself up over him. She was already wet and ready for him—they’d been engaging in foreplay since the first day they met. She slowly lowered herself so he nudged her entrance.
His jaw clenched, but he remained otherwise still. She moved the tiniest amount, feeling the stretch and burn as his cock met the resistance of her tight passage. Another little movement up and down and she was loosening up now, the moisture from her body assisting his penetration. Once more up and down and his cock slipped past her entrance and she impaled herself fully atop him, awash in sensation. He was hard and hot and throbbing deep inside her.
He pushed upward once in an instinctive motion, causing her to gasp, but immediately halted. She raised herself up and lowered herself slowly on him once again, taking him in fully. And it was good, so very good. She rolled her hardened nipples between her fingers and began to move in earnest.
His hands fisted in the bedspread as he allowed her to move atop him exactly how she wanted to. Now slowing, now speeding up. Moving shallowly only to suddenly seat herself fully on him. The flames licked up her belly to her breasts until she was burning inside as she impaled herself upon him. Again and again. Her body trembled as the heat built up into a raging inferno.
Strange sobbing noises emerged from her throat. It was too much sensation. The heat, his hard cock throbbing inside her, stretching her open. When she stopped, his hands clamped down on her hips.
“It’s okay. Just let it happen,” he said. His hands urged her to move, helping her find a new rhythm, pushing her past her limits.
Until she exploded, the orgasm rolling through her body like a tidal wave. Her limbs stiffened and her body clenched his cock tight, spasming around it. The force of it caused her to collapse against him, folding down to rest against his chest while he was still lodged inside her.
His arms closed around her and he traced down the line of her back to her buttocks with his hands in sweeping motions. He kissed her temple. “Okay?”
“Understatement.” She tugged at him to get him to roll over so he was atop her, still connected. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed up.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I want to.” His weight, balanced atop his forearms above her, wasn’t confining. She didn’t feel trapped. It was a cocoon made up of her and him and this bed and this moment. She pushed up against him again, feeling the beautiful slide of him inside her.
It was all the prompting he needed. He began to thrust, moving in and out. He pulled one of her legs up higher, and the new position shifted where he hit. With every movement little tendrils of pleasure climbed higher and higher. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders.
He erupted within her with a groan. She pulled him into her and stroked his back as he shook from the force of his orgasm.
This was going to be much harder to quit than cigarettes.
After he’d cleaned up and come back to bed, he settled in next to her and pulled the covers over them. This was where she should make sure he knew that this couldn’t happen again. That she had to break these ties before they began to imprison her. But then he smoothed a lock of her hair back and she just couldn’t get the words out. Because this didn’t feel like a trap at all. It felt like coming home.
The thought jolted her out of bed. She scrambled to find her underwear.
He sat up, blankets falling to his waist, displaying his smooth chested, tattooed, ab-tastic glory. Oh God, she wanted him again. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go. Ummm...it was fun,” she said, clutching her panties. “I just... I gotta go. Chocolate cake,” she told herself.
“Why are you talking about cake? Come back to bed.”
“You’re like that cake you made.”
“It was a chocolate hazelnut torte.”
“Whatever. It was delicious and now I’ll always want it. And I can’t let cake have that much power over me.”
“I’ll give you the recipe.”
“It’s not about cake.”
“Obviously,” he said dryly. “I’m not your father and I’m not your mother’s boyfriends.”
“You don’t get it. This can’t work.”
“You think I wanted this?”
His words knocked her back on her heels. And for once, she was the one who couldn’t talk.
“But it’s like when you sit on your foot and it falls asleep and then you try to stand up,” he said. “It’s painful.”
“You’re saying I’m painful?”
“I’m saying coming back to life is fucking uncomfortable. Now get the fuck back in this bed. We can fight some more in the morning.”
She dropped her underwear back on the floor. “I’m coming back to bed, but only because it’s late and I’m tired, not because you told me to.”
“Of course,” he said in a wry voice.
When he gathered her close to him, she closed her eyes, and just let herself breathe him in. She’d be stronger tomorrow.
But a nagging thought wouldn’t let her drift off to sleep. “Wait a minute,” she said.
He gave a sleepy “mmpf.”
“Who’s coming back to life in this scenario?” Could he have been talking about himself?
But he only rolled over, either asleep or faking it. But definitely not answering.
She was about to drop off, too, when her phone rang. She attempted to ignore it, but she wasn’t wired that way—too many nights sleeping with it practically under her pillow just in case a client called. After the second shrill, demanding ring, she shoved off the covers and leaped from bed earni
ng an exasperated “mmpf” from Danny. She fished it from her discarded clothes and looked at the display. It rang insistently in her hand.
“Pick it up or turn it off,” Danny said, rolling onto his back.
“It’s my mom.”
He sat up. “Is that a good thing?”
“Our last conversation didn’t go so well.” Her mom had called her an ungrateful bitch and hung up. Even without knowing her father, Erin was confident of where she’d gotten her temper. She took a deep breath and answered.
Her mom’s voice was hesitant. “Hi, sweetie. I... I thought about what you said...about wanting more of a relationship and I... I want that, too. I’m sorry you feel like I don’t love you as much as your sister. That’s not true. It’s just...” She sighed. “You never needed me. Not like your sister. You were always so damn independent. When you were a little girl, your favorite words were I can do it myself. Didn’t matter if I was trying to teach you to tie your shoes or getting you on the bus to school. Always had to do it yourself.”
Erin’s throat felt clogged tight with years of emotions. “But I did need you,” she choked out.
“I was thinking that you could come home this weekend. We could talk?”
Her immediate instinct was to say no, she’d only wind up hurt and disappointed if she opened up. She looked over at Danny, who watched her with unguarded concern in his dark eyes. She let out a breath and allowed herself to hope. Because if Erin could learn to let another person in, then maybe her mother could change, too.
“I’d like that, Mom.” Her grip tightened on her phone. “But I meant it when I said I wasn’t giving you or Brigid money. I won’t be your ATM anymore.”
“Just come home.”
She nodded her head numbly even though her mother couldn’t see it.
When she hung up, Danny reached out and gently wiped away a tear from her eye. She hadn’t even known she’d been crying. “Do you want ice cream?” he asked in a voice as gentle as his touch.